


Veracity

by StealthKaiju



Series: Captain's Songbook [5]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pining, Slight rant about canonical English literature, Spock really needs to recognise feelings, Truth serum(ish)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:06:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29938011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StealthKaiju/pseuds/StealthKaiju
Summary: After an interrogation, a drugged up and dopey captain is being observed by Bones and Spock.Inspired by 'I Won't Say (I'm In Love)' by Susan Egan and the wonderful Hercules chorus
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy, James T. Kirk/Spock
Series: Captain's Songbook [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1096464
Comments: 6
Kudos: 50





	Veracity

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy this fluff - I don't want to be the only one.

_Who d’you think you’re kidding_

_He’s the earth and heaven to you_

_Try to keep it hidden,_

_Honey we can see right through you_

‘Is the captain in any danger from this intoxicant?’ Spock asked, watching the captain through the observation screen.

McCoy sighed. ‘I don’t think so. It seems to target the frontal cortical areas of the brain specifically, which means impairment in his critical thinking and impulse control, but the effects are getting weaker as time wears on. I don’t think there’ll be any lasting damage.’

‘Is that your official diagnosis?’

McCoy huffed. ‘Yeah, that’s my official diagnosis. My unofficial one is that the pollen’s made him hella loopy, but he’ll get over it, hopefully sooner rather than later.’

Spock raised his eyebrow. ‘My apologies doctor, but ‘hella loopy’ is not an expression that I am familiar with.’

McCoy smirked at him (Spock was able to recognise the expression – it helped that it was one of the doctor’s most common facial quirks, second only perhaps to dramatic eyebrow furrowing). McCoy continued. ‘Layman’s terms? He’s currently very relaxed, and seems incapable of telling lies.’

‘How have you verified that assessment?

McCoy went to press a button, leaning into the microphone. ‘Jim, you alright?’

The captain didn’t even flinch at the sudden sound of his friend’s voice, just turned his head to face the glass next to him (Spock was suddenly glad that they couldn’t be seen). ‘Am good, Bones,’ he said, his voice relaxed and even a little sleepy.

‘How d’ya feel?’ McCoy went on.

‘Like I’m walking on champagne bubbles.’ He smiled. ‘It’s nice.’

McCoy gave a glance to Spock. ‘How’d I know he can’t lie?’ he muttered. He pressed the button again. ‘Say, Jim, you keeping to that diet I prescribed you for this week?’

The captain started giggling, then put his hand to his mouth. ‘No!’ he said, then started giggling again. ‘It’s boring. And I have the chocolate in my desk that I have for when Spock and I play chess. And the Tellarite candies that I have hidden in my wardrobe.’ His forehead creased, in concentration. ‘Oh, I had that curry with Scotty on Thursday after the card game, and…’

‘That’s ok, thanks Jim,’ McCoy interrupted. He looked at Spock, triumphantly. ‘See what I mean?’

Spock felt uncomfortable. ‘It does not seem to be just a case of the inability to dissimulate or deceive, but he is suggestible and seems willing to volunteer information despite the potential negative consequences to himself.’

McCoy nodded. ‘Like I said, hella loopy. But you’re right, it’s sinister a species’d cultivate something like this, especially for interrogation. I mean, it’s not torture, so there’s that I guess.’

Spock suppressed a shudder at the thought of the captain being tortured. He counted to ten in his head before he asked his next question. ‘That is what they were doing when security found him? They were conducting an interrogation?’

McCoy smiled. ‘Yeah. However, they made the mistake of not being specific enough in their questions. They wanted Federation secrets, but what they asked was ‘What do you know?’.

Spock quirked an eyebrow. ‘So they have no understanding of how open-ended a line of enquiry that is?’

‘No. Apparently, Jimmy here went into a two hour rant about nineteenth century Terran literature, mainly about how Dickens was not the only one to write important works, and that it was a ‘canonical travesty’ that other authors were not considered as relevant. He was particularly stuck on George Eliot, and talked about her for nearly thirty minutes straight.’

Spock looked at him, tilting his head slightly. ‘George is an unusual name for a woman, is it not?’

‘Pseudonym. Real name Mary Ann Evans.’

Spock continued to stare intently at him.

‘Trust me, I only know that because I’ve known Jim for years, and have heard this rant a lot. Hell, makes me feel almost sorry for them.’

Spock did not feel sorry for them. He was conflicted – he wanted to check the captain himself for any physical injury, which was illogical and unnecessary, as the doctor, for all his faults, was a superb physician. (He also wanted to track down those responsible, but he refused to let himself dwell on what he wished to do then.) ‘It is fortunate that nothing sensitive was disclosed.’

McCoy nodded gravely. ‘Jim would’ve never forgiven himself if it had.’

‘It would be illogical for the captain to think that he would be at fault if it had,’ Spock said tersely.

‘Humans aren’t logical Spock. And you and I know that he wouldn’t be to blame, and even Jim would _know_ , but… knowing and feeling ain’t the same. He’d _feel_ guilty.’

There was silence for a moment, then McCoy slipped out of the room to walk to stand by Jim.

The captain smiled at his friend, all the warmth of a sunny day, then began to lie down on the biobed, his eyes closing. ‘Bit sleepy,’ he said.

‘Any headaches?’ McCoy asked quietly, none of his usual gruffness.

‘A little. Feels a bit fuzzy, like when you’ve spun around and made yourself dizzy, you know when you were a kid?’

‘Hmm. I’ll be honest Jim, been a while since I’ve done that.’

The captain made a soft, sighing sound. ‘Me too Bones,’ he said.

Spock turned to leave, planning to use the exit that would take him straight out of the medi-bay without going through the room. He felt as if he were spying on something personal and private.

‘You won’t let Spock come to see me when I’m like this, will you Bones?’

A stab of something cold and sharp went through Spock, as painful as le matya claws. Did the captain not trust him? Had he offended him in some way?

‘It’s just…’ The captain’s voice was small and fragile. ‘It’s just, I think I… I think I’m always in danger of revealing too much to him anyway. Of saying how I… what I…’

Bones shushed his friend gently, dimming the lights over the bed. ‘I know, Jim, and it’s okay.’ He carefully brushed away the hair that had fallen across Jim’s eyes, in a similar way to how Spock’s mother used to do when he was a very young child. ‘Go to sleep.’

An unsettling feeling, almost like pins and needles, ran across Spock’s spine and down his hands. He flexed his fingers, and moved quickly out of the room and back to his quarters.


End file.
